


Sleeping Beauties

by QueenofHalicarnassus (orphan_account)



Series: The Princes(s)'s Adventures [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brief Self-Harm, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Monsters, My very poor efforts at horror, Noctis Whump, Not really scary at all, Sleep Deprivation, this was meant to be funny, what happened!?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 15:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17706791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/QueenofHalicarnassus
Summary: Noctis wakes one morning to find all of his friends asleep. Time passes and they don't wake up. Unable to sleep, he begins to notice that something is wrong, very wrong.





	Sleeping Beauties

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be all humor!!!! What happened plot bunnies?!?!

Noctis awoke before everybody else. It should have been the first warning that something was wrong. Of course, in his half awake state, it took a good ten to fifteen minutes, and stumbling around a silent camper to realize that he was the only one semi-conscious. Prompto was still stretched out on the couch turned bed, the one Noctis shared with him, one arm curling around Noctis’ pillow and the other tucked under his chin. His mouth was slack, and slow, deep breaths were issuing from him. It looked like a healthy, restful sleep.

Noctis had been half tempted to just go back to bed, Prompto was there for the cuddling (Noctis would never admit to his love of cuddling) and Ignis wasn’t trying to force breakfast into him and Gladio wasn’t threatening to make him start sword practice, but he was wide awake, body telling him that willful unconsciousness was a no-go. There must have been a blue moon, because the last time he remembered not being able to sleep had been way back when he was five and had nightmares.

Standing up, he loudly stretched (if he wasn’t sleeping than Prompto wasn’t either). Prompto didn’t stir. He must have been pretty damn tired. Next, he fumbled for his phone, there was a picture of the four of them at Longwythe Peak as his screen lock. The time read 12:23. It was late, like really late. Maybe Gladio and Ignis had headed somewhere in a magnanimous gesture to let him and Prompto sleep. The idea seemed good and helped to dispel the anxiety that was slowly starting to bubble in him.

Noctis stood up and stumbled over to the kitchenette. If Ignis had left then there was no doubt the man had made food for them, he was a mother-hen about that sort of stuff. Oddly enough it looked like the kitchenette hadn’t even been used. He frowned, but his mind supplied the thought that maybe Ignis went out with the intention of buying more supplies. Noctis would be damned if he remembered what their food stock looked like right now.

Noctis considered trying to make himself something but decided against it. He almost slumped back onto the bed where Prompto was still soundly sleeping.

A thought came to him, one which made his stomach ball up with tension and a horrible sense of foreboding. Heading to the back of the trailer, where the full size bed was, he peered in at the dark, curtain closed area. There was Gladio’s form, atop the covers as he always was when sharing the bed with someone, and Ignis’ form, primly situated at the center of the left side of the bed. Both were fast asleep.

Noctis frowned, there was a bad taste in his mouth and the sense that something was very wrong.

“Ignis?” he called.

There was no answer.

“Gladio?” he called a little louder.

Again there was no answer. Both were alive though, peaceful expressions on their faces, sprawled out in what seemed a pleasant, healthy rest. Noctis shook his head. Okay, his friends had decided to take a day off, big deal.

It didn’t feel like that though. Despite the naturalness of their sleep --aside from not waking up at his call-- something felt wrong.

He shrugged it off, it’d be fine, he’d rustle up a meal at the local diner or eatery and then come back to brag about how delicious it was and how they’d all missed out. He’d lord his early awakening --in comparison-- over them and they’d be annoyed, Prompto would whine about something, Ignis would be all flustered over his improper conduct and Gladio would put him in a headlock and give him a noogie or the like.

Exactly, everything was fine, no need to freak out.

Pulling on his boots, Noctis glanced back at Prompto. His friend was in the same position, one hand drawn up on his chest, the other thrown out. It was like a still life picture. It creeped him out. After getting his boots on he gently pulled Prompto’s stretched out arm to his friend’s chest and carefully laid it there. Softly, he pulled the blankets up around Prompto and tucked his friend in. With one last worried glance over his shoulder, he headed out of the trailer.

They were at some outpost of Duscae, Noctis forgot its name, and there was a small area for outside dining. He headed over and ordered a meal. After eating he chatted with the owner for a while. Finished talking, the evening having set in, he headed over to the shop. He browsed a while and then somehow struck up a conversation with a traveler who was an avid fisher. Tips and stories swapped, the sun had sunk below the horizon and nighttime had approached.

He headed back to the trailer, a little anxious since none of his friends had come out of the camper to see the shop or the food stalls. He opened the door and stepped in.

There was Prompto, all tucked in with his one hand still pulled under his chin. Noctis edged into the trailer, eyes stuck fast to his friend. He held his palm under Prompto’s nose. Warm breath puffed against his skin. If that wasn’t proof enough, Prompto’s chest rose and fell steadily.

He pressed the back of his hand to Prompto’s forehead. It was a regular temperature.

He frowned, glancing toward where his other companions were. He looked one last time at Prompto before moving through the trailer and up to the other bed. Gladio and Ignis were fast asleep, both in the same positions. He climbed on the bed, some small part of him hoping that Gladio would sit up and start shouting at him for getting in his personal space, or that Ignis would wake up, seemingly unruffled, and threaten him with vegetables.

Neither moved. He approached Gladio first, pulling at his friend’s shoulder. Gladio easily rolled from his side to his back, face slack and peaceful. He looked like he was dreaming of girls and camping.

He poked him in the face. Nothing happened. He poked him again.

“I’m going to put dye your hair orange,” he threatened.

Gladio was absolutely still. Noctis was slowly starting to freak out. He moved over to Ignis. His friend was laid out on his back, arms by his sides and his blankets hardly moved. Ignis even looked perfectly put together in sleep.

He pinched Ignis’ nose. He ran his hands up and down Ignis’ bare torso, knowing just how ticklish he was. There was no response.

He was now panicking. Scrambling off of the bed, he sank to the floor, back against the tiny bathroom door. He let his head fall into his hands as his breathing sped up.

Okay, his friends were asleep and unresponsive. He was awake. They weren’t.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do. Remedies, those might work, right? In a moment, he had brought a remedy from the armiger. He stumbled back over to Prompto and crushed it against his friend’s chest. He waited with bated breath.

Nothing happened, the blonde haired man breathing deeply, evenly, peacefully. Noctis wanted to scream. He fell back, landing on his butt. Scooching so he was up against the wall, he let his head fall into his hands.

Okay, okay, his friends were asleep and the remedy he’d used hadn’t worked. What should he do?

His mind drew a blank. Maybe he could, wait? Hadn’t Ignis once said that he had watched Noctis sleep for over forty eight hours after a warping session gone wrong? That was what this was, exhaustion, pure and simple. They just needed to sleep a little.

Noctis gave a shaky nod, accepting his own twisted and convoluted logic. Standing up, he headed out of the camper. Carefully, he locked the door. Now that he knew his friends needed rest, he wasn’t willing to risk someone wandering in.

Glancing around, he realized that it might be a good idea to figure out where they were. Looking, he saw the Titan’s resting place, the arches which stretched up and over the landscape. Then his eyes’ landed on a sign which read: Coernix Station - Cauthess.

Okay, good to know. Wandering over to the market shop, he walked in.

“Can we keep the camper another night?”.

“Howdy, you boys still hanging ‘round here?” The cashier asked.

Noctis shrugged and placed enough gil on the counter for another night.

“Must be some hunt.”

“Something like that.”

The man counted the gil and placed it in his cash register while Noctis exited the building. It was dark now, the sun having set. Rolling his shoulders, he headed over to the camper. Clambering in he had the smallest of hopes that he would find his friends awake.

There Prompto was, fast asleep. He wanted to scream. Instead, he climbed into the bed, laying on his back.

Time passed, slowly and irreverently. Noctis could not sleep. The hours oozed by, Prompto’s sleeping form steadily drawing in breaths, never once stirring. After two hours of attempting to enter unconsciousness, he pulled out his phone.

By 2:00 his eyes were blurring, fingers slipping and causing unintended consequences on his game. He finally stopped, setting his phone to the side. Sleep would not come. At 4:30 he got up and checked on Ignis and Gladio. There was no change. Exhausted, he moved back over to Prompto.

He headed out of the camper and glanced around. It was dark, the bright lights of the station casting the dark of the trees and the rising rock bridge in stark contrast. For some reason it caught his gaze, pulling him in. The wind whispered by, gently ruffling his jacket and hair. It smelled warm and sweet, a taste of static at the end which had him looking east at the skyline.

Large clouds billowed on the distant horizon, tall, black pillars which promised heavy rain.

Noctis felt himself waver, body swaying at the strange sensation which washed over him, as if something were lulling him into a hypnotic slumber. A flash of something caught his eye and he straightened, blinking back to his senses.

He narrowed his eyes at the inky black base where the tree trunks began and the station ended. There was no movement, nothing. He scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. Going toward the camper he threw one last look at the black abyss topped with faintly illuminated tree heads. Nothing was there.

  
  
  
  


 

Normal morning times didn’t come soon enough, Noctis unable to sleep the entire night. He felt drowsy and uncomfortable, skin prickling with unease. All of his friends were still asleep. Seeing them laid out so still, so quiet and motionless, reminded him of corpses.

Getting out of the camper, he took in a breath of fresh air. It didn’t seem to help, the oxygen heavy with pre-rain condensation. The muggy atmosphere caused him to feel even more weighed down and groggy. He headed over to the small food stalls set up a little to the side. Only one had someone manning it, and the guy was still setting up.

Noctis sat down at a plastic bench and pulled out his phone. Was there someone he could call? Cor maybe? The Crownsguardman was busy enough, and likely not to answer. He tried to think of anybody else. Cid Sophiar and his granddaughter Cindy had helped them out quite a bit, but what would the mechanic be able to say to help? They had a few friends with the hunters, Dave Auburnbrie in particular was always willing to lend a hand.

Noctis tried to call the man. There was no answer so he left an awkward phone message.

There were market booth owners whose numbers he had, usually though they were the ones calling him needing help. There was Iris and her retainers: Monica and Dustin. His mind turned to Gladio’s motionless form and he shook his head. He couldn’t bother them with this.

His phone buzzed, Dave calling back. He quickly answered.

_ “This is Dave, what’s going on?” _

“Hey, I just had a question.”

Noctis let his eyes travel over the view of the Disc of Cauthess, before trailing along the road and then to the Coernix station.

_ “What sorta question?” _

“You ever see any hunters sleep a lot?”

For some reason, his gaze settled on the spot of trees nestled by and behind the station, the place from early this morning. Even now they were cast in shadow, the thick conifers spreading their needles to absorb all the sunlight.

_ “After a tough hunt?”  _ Dave let out a half chuckle _. “I mean, fellers conk out here in Mendacio for almost a day after some of the shit they see and get up to. Hell, I think I’ve seen you sleep over thirty two hours, in fact, I think it was after you boys got on the wrong side of a pair of mated griffons.” _

“Yeah,” the Prince replied, barely listening as his eyes stayed on the area, mesmerized.

This sleep, it felt different, it felt - wrong. Noctis watched a small squirrel dart by the patch, hovering near the start of the shadows, tail and nose twitching, before it scampered away. There was a pine cone at the edge of the dark. He felt his stomach churn unexpectedly, sweat that had been accumulating on his forehead finally trickling down his forehead.

_ “-ou still there?” _

He blinked, shaking his head and feeling as if he was coming out of a trance.

“Yeah, uh, what was that again?”

The line was quiet.

_ “You boys alright?”  _ Dave sounded worried.

Noctis wrenched his eyes away from the patch of shaded trees. He stared down at the plastic table he was seated at.

“Yeah, we’re good,” he lied. “Just, if you know anything, or hear anything, about people sleeping a lot, just, I don’t know.”

The stall owner came over and set a plate of eggs down.

_ “Alright,”  _ replied Dave, he didn’t seem too reassured.

“Thanks.”

_ “No problem, you boys stay safe.” _

Noctis ended the call. With his stomach in knots he poked at his food.

  
  
  
  
  


The day progressed and every few minutes Noctis was heading over to the camper to check on his friends. Their condition didn’t change. He felt useless, unsure as to what was wrong with them and unable to just leave them to find someone who did. On top of it, he couldn’t sleep, he tried and tried, each attempt only leaving him feeling more wired and out of it.

He attempted to stay busy, helping the Coernix station owner move boxes and giving a couple with a flat tire a hand in fixing it. It still left hours though, ones which began to waver and undulate, something heavy and pressing, leaning against time and making it sluggish.

Finally night fell again and he walked to the camper, this time his chest aching with fear and hope. The door swung open and he stepped in. There Prompto was, asleep. Noctis felt his lips twitch, vision swimming, something in him balling up and exploding. He slammed the camper door shut and moved over to the bed.

Seizing Prompto’s shoulders he shook his friend. Blonde hair shifted, head lolling back and forth as he violently pulled and pushed at the blonde’s body. Chest heaving, he stopped. Prompto’s head was tilted to the side, his limbs slack, breath coming deep and slow, in and out.

Noctis, fingers trembling, released his friend and watched as the body fell back against the bed.

“Prom, please, don’t do this to me,” he begged, panicked rage and desperation overwhelming him.

“Wake Up!”

The scream did nothing. He slammed his fist against the mattress and fought to control his breathing. His fists tightened in his hair and he clenched his eyes shut. He needed to calm down. Slowly his lungs took up an even pace, his hands falling back to his sides.

“What do I have to do? Sing to you? Take stupid pictures?” He asked.

There was, of course, no response from Prompto.

“I’ll pose ‘like one of your Altissian girls’,” he joked.

The response was silence.

“What? You want a kiss? Like that stupid fairy tale you liked so much?”

Prompto stayed there, supine and deeply unconscious. Noctis shook his head and collapsed onto his back, the blankets bunched up under him uncomfortably. He pretended that his eyes weren’t wet.

He tried to sleep. All that was given him were blurred images dancing across his closed eyelids and the sensation of a weight on his chest, pressing and pressing, gravity drawing down his ribs and his lungs constricting at the pressure. Snapping his eyes open, it eased somewhat.

Everything felt wrong, the hours ticking by slowly, him unable to sleep yet so exhausted. He hadn’t rested in over twenty four hours now.

Somehow, the night passed, Noctis laying in bed and trying to sleep.

  
  
  
  
  


The next morning he rose, things dancing at the corners of his eyes. Something, he had to do something, wake them up, somehow. Pressing his knuckles against his eyes, the action causing colored spots to dance in his vision, opened the door of the trailer. He almost fell coming out of the camper, exhaustion stealing away all of his coordination.

The ground seemed to come up at him, the road a black serpent, the blue sky a chilling frost. Everything was too much, too little. Noctis caught the gaze of passing trio of young women, they smiled at him and he felt anger and suspicion rise in him. Three girls, too weird, too strange an incident to just be coincidence. Intentional, harmful, evil. His eyes snapped to the tree shaded area, the pine cone.

The girls looked away and continued at a faster pace to the shop. There was something, something nearby, bad, his friends. Noctis summoned a dagger, just in case. He sat on the steps, he couldn’t step away, they could die, they could die, they could-

His vision hissed and spat black, he slammed a hand into the side of his head, hoping it would get his brain to kickstart. It didn’t. He did it again, and again, and again.

“Sir? Sir? Are you alright?”

Noctis looked up to the dark face of a stranger, brown haired, seemingly benign. He couldn’t be, none of them could. His hand clenched around the dagger. He would kill the man if he got closer, cut his throat and then remove the hands so they couldn’t hurt him.

His eyesight became more regular, still blurred by exhaustion. His brain cleared somewhat and he looked up and saw that it was just the food stall owner, the one who’d served him eggs and then thrown in a piece of fruit for free.

“I’m, fine,” he managed to say.

The guy looked unconvinced but he moved away. A grimace split across Noctis’ face. Something was wrong, he couldn’t remember what though. His friends were asleep, that was good, rest was good for them. But it wasn’t.

Six, he needed sleep, his body ached, everything hurt and felt wrong, wrong, wrong. He barely managed to get to his feet and move back into the camper.

Inside he sank into a corner, arms curled around himself. It was safer here, he was safer. Minutes passed, maybe, time flowed by, fast and slow, a pendulous movement of time. Where was he? He raised his head and saw the camper floor, the bed.

He got to his feet, came to the bed. There was Prompto, fast asleep. He smiled, that was good. But it wasn’t. He had to fix it.

Noctis laid himself on the bed, burying his face in Prompto’s chest, listening to the ‘thump, thump’ of his friend’s heart beat. The noise filled him, rising and thrumming with his own. It faltered, he threw himself back, staring at Prompto. He slammed a hand against Prompto’s chest and waited. The beat was the same.

Why did he feel so strange? A heaviness in him which was growing. Wait, it was growing? Noctis felt panic rise and surge in him. Something was in him, growing, getting heavier, stronger. He felt his breaths grow short, chest imploding. His hands raked across his ribs, pulling the shirt. It needed to come out. He clawed at himself with both hands, the panic rising, the need to remove it swelling to a pitch.

The ringing of a phone pulled him away, everything settled and he was once again in the camper, all of it the same. He glanced around, spied his phone on the counter and grabbed it. He answered without looking at the caller ID.

_ “Hey, this is Dave.” _

Noctis said nothing in reply.

_ “You there? Hello?” _

“Dave,” he said monotonically.

_ “Yeah, it’s me,”  _ said Dave slowly,  _ “You alright?” _

“Yeah.”

_ “I was calling because I heard drift of something to do with what you were talking about. I know it’s kinda late, but you sounded like you maybe needed it something bad, so I figured I’d let you know as soon as possible.” _

Noctis was listening, but his eyes wandered. There was Prompto, fast asleep on the bed, and behind him was the window.

_ “Talked to Ezma about the sleeping thing, I didn’t take it all that seriously, but I knew you’d want something. She got real serious about it.” _

The blinds were slightly askew, a small slit of the outside available to view. Wind and rain lashed the window. Noctis cocked his head.

_ “She said sometimes hunters find people, in little shanties that get set up in the wilds, people hoping to make a homestead and a life, and she says that the hunters’ll just find ‘em all fast asleep.” _

He could see it, the patch, the outline of the branches just visible, a small sliver of the black sitting there, inky, unmarred by the droplets of water that showed everywhere else on the window.

_ “They don’t wake up. Some of the hunters who stuck around to track stuff went missing. She told me that they don’t know what causes it but it’s something bad. If you found any people like that, leave ‘em, they can’t be saved. Sticking around can only lead to bad things.” _

His heartbeat thrummed in him, the pressure returning, the heaviness taking meaning.

_ “Hey, Noctis? You listening?” _

It was there.

_ “Noctis?” _

The phone slipped through his hands and fell to the floor. Dave’s voice sounded through the speaker. Noctis couldn’t hear.

A lance was summoned, gripped in his hand. With slow steady steps he turned to the camper door and exited. Outside it was dark, wind howled, rain lashing the ground and everything near it. Blue eyes glazed, he turned to look at the black hollow of trees. It seemed to grow, a pulse to it. He stepped toward it, lance pointed to the ground. Everything swayed to the wind, screamed with the sound of it, everything but the trees of of the black patch.

He stood at the threshold, the absolute cover of the black shadowed depths an inch away. He stepped in. His foot bumped into the pinecone, sending it rolling out, and into the half-light. It was rotted and shriveled.

  
  
  
  


 

Dave Auburnbrie frowned at his phone. Outside it was wet and fresh, the storm over Cleigne and Mendacio having passed a little while ago. He was worried about the fact that Noctis had just stopped talking, that he’d heard the phone hitting the floor followed by the sound of silence.

Worry filled and grated away at him. He dialed the other hunter’s number in the group, the responsible one. He did not answer. Dave tried the blonde kid’s number. There was no response. Then he tried the tall, dark haired one’s. When all it did was ring through, Dave pulled his phone away and glared at it.

Something bad was happening, real bad, and the four boys he’d come to depend on were in trouble. Looking through his contacts he tried to find someone who might be able to help out. He knew they were in Duscae, Kent, a hunter, having told him about their amazing success taking down a pack of coeurls.

Maybe someone down there would be able to help out. Dave dialed a number and waited.

  
  
  
  
  


The dark wasn’t so dark, he could still see the outlines of trees, see the looming wall of the rock bridge. It stuck to him, sank into his skin, pushed into his nose and mouth to climb down his throat. It was here, it was here, his mind sang. Then he saw movement, a black figure.

He lifted his lance, ready to kill it. The pressure increased, slamming into him, his lance fell from his grasp and he dropped to his knees gasping for air. A thing moved forward, the black oozing from it. There was nothing to be seen but the pale, wrinkled skin of a chin. It opened its mouth, the black crevice widening.

Noctis felt his strength start to leave, his head an unpleasant mash of pain and confusion. He fell to his hands and knees, blood coming from his mouth. He coughed, wheezing, lungs seizing. Blood spilled out. It came closer.

It was going to take him.

Noctis collapsed to his chest, arms giving out. His strength was being sapped away, he was being crushed. As his vision started to fade, something in him shifted. The fact that he was going to die hit him like a freight train.

Clarity came, pushed into existence by his barely existing survival instinct. A part of him recognized this feeling, the power here. He hadn’t before, and even now he was having a hard time placing it.

It clicked. Darkness, it was a spell, maybe a little different than what he was used to facing, but it was unmistakable. This was a daemon.

Noctis twitched his hand, reaching toward his lance. The pressure intensified and he cried out in pain, feeling as if he would be crushed. He couldn’t give up though. His weapon solidified in his hand and he pushed himself to his knees, weakly lashing out at the daemon with his lance.

It shrieked, moving back in surprise. He had a feeling that it hadn’t often met with violence, its powers overwhelming most people.

He staggered to his feet, vision spinning, blood still dripping from the corner of his mouth. He leveled his lance at it. The thing shrieked again and backed away. He lunged forward, trying to strike, it dodged, its cloak fluttering.

The creature held a hand up and screeched. Noctis felt some invisible force slam into him from above and throughout his body. He screamed, collapsing to his knees and holding his head between his hands. The pressure was building, slowly and steadily, his eyes feeling like they would be turned to jelly, his lungs threatening to collapse. He vomited blood.

The daemon began its approach anew, a veined, skeletal like hand raised. It was putting up a fight.

Noctis lashed out with the lance and it evaded him again. Crawling to his feet, he found his grasp on consciousness slipping, each breath labored, every particle of him in agony. The creature advanced again, a wicked glee of triumph exuding from it.

Noctis could do nothing in its advance, his attempt to back away landing him on his butt. The daemon continued forward. He felt his body shutting down, pain starting not to register and being replaced with an all encompassing numb.

He mouthed a word, ‘dad’, mind once again spinning in between hallucination and reality. With one last effort he summoned a dagger, the hilt barely being felt by his fingers. Raising a shaking arm, he threw. His eyes fell shut. He heard a horrible keening screech which brought his pain back, and then, he was gone, body shutting down and blessed consciousness falling over him.

  
  
  
  
  


Ignis had never been a deep sleeper. He wasn’t the sort to take a nap at the drop of the hat, or to over sleep. He was practical about it, aiming usually for a solid eight hours of undisturbed rest, most hopefully being REM, and he usually got somewhere between five to seven most nights since starting off with his companions.

Waking up, he felt the heavy-limbed sensation of rousing from a deep sleep. His body struggled against it, and instead of easily coming into wakefulness, it was a slow process.

When his eyes opened he was surprised to see an unknown woman watching him with a furrowed brow. She was dressed like a hunter.

“Good, you’re up, first one too,” she had a thick country accent.

Ignis blinked, struggling to sit up. Despite having felt like he’d slept more than he’d ever had in his entire life, his energy was lackluster.

“Name’s Vincey, Dave sent me,” she explained, holding out a cup of water.

Ignis, throat extremely dry, took the cup and drank. Looking down at himself he realized that he was not dressed appropriately, especially for a woman to be seeing as such.

“Don’t mind none, I’ve seen worse.”

Ignis nodded his head. Looking around he saw Gladio next to him, asleep, though he looked like he would be waking soon.

“Why did Dave send you?” Ignis asked.

The woman, Vincey, took the cup back from Ignis and set it to the side.

“Said he got a call from one of y’all, talked to Ezma and she thought y’all might be dealing with a Shadow.”

Ignis raised a brow, reaching over to grab a t-shirt. It was Gladio’s, but it was better than being half nude in front of company. His own clothing he knew to be neatly stacked at the head of the bed.

“Which of my companions spoke with Dave?”

A dark looked passed over her face, and her features scrunched up in a thoughtful frown.

“Dark haired guy.”

Something about her tone worried Ignis.

“Where is he?” Ignis asked, getting out of the bed and pulling on his black jeans.

Vincey moved away from the bed and into the main area of the camper. Ignis followed, barely having snapped his jeans shut. He saw blood splattered on the floor, several towels haphazardly thrown about the room. On the bed, atop the covers, Noctis lay. Prompto was asleep and shoved up against the far side of the bed.

“What happened?” asked Ignis sharply, stepping forward.

Noctis was very pale, his breathing labored, and his appearance sickly. His chest was wrapped with a fair amount of white gauze.

“Far as I can tell he took on a Shadow and managed to come out on the winning side,” Vincey explained.

“I cleaned him up, his ribs are all cracked, he should heal up fine though,” explained Vincey. “Look, I got a couple hunters hoping I’ll come help ‘em with a broken leg.”

“Yes, of course,” he replied, eyes still glued to the Prince.

“I’ll call Dave and let ‘im know y’all are alright.”

“Thank you.”

Vincey stepped out and the camper door shut. Ignis pressed a hand against Noctis’ cheek. It felt clammy and cold.

There was a loud groan from the other bed. A minute later Gladio, shirtless and in boxers, stumbled in. He was stretching when he saw Noctis.

“What the hell happened?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I believe an incident with a daemon may be part of it.”

Gladio nodded, before heading back to get dressed. He forewent a shirt.

Ignis checked Noctis over while Gladio made breakfast. Both discovered that they were starving. As the food was cooking, Prompto woke up as well. Ignis tried to answer his questions as best as possible.

After all three had eaten, they sat in silence watching Noctis.

“So, a shadow?” said Prompto. “What is it anyways?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of the creature before,” replied Ignis.

They fell silent as all three continued eating the oat porridge Gladio had prepared.

“We were asleep while he fought it then?” hazarded Prompto, “and it was what put us to sleep?”

Ignis said nothing. He’d seen the date. They’d been asleep for three days. Whatever had happened hadn’t been natural.

“Seems like it,” huffed Gladio.

A shared guilt was weighing on all three of them.

Noctis stirred, eyelids fluttering. A glazed set of blue wandered the room. It set on them. They widened and then he was struggling to sit up. Ignis lurched forward, trying to keep the Prince from rising and exacerbating his injuries.

Gladio swept in and pressed Noctis down by his shoulders.

“Calm down,” commanded Gladio.

Noctis stopped struggling, but he was still tense. Fevered blue eyes darted between them. Prompto came over, looking down in worry at his friend.

“You okay man?” asked the blonde.

“No, you, you were asleep, gone, gone, I was-” the Prince frowned, tossing his head as a frown crossed it.

“We’re awake Noctis,” reassured Ignis.

The raven haired man started to calm somewhat.

“Awake?” He queried in a raspy voice.

“Completely conscious,” answered Prompto.

Noctis relaxed, eyes slipping shut and falling asleep. Gladio let up on him and stepped back.

“What the hell happened?”

None of them could answer.

  
  
  
  


 

They ended up calling Dave, Noctis out for who knew how long. The hunter explained what had happened and told them what he knew about shadows. They weren’t common daemons, and they weren’t particularly strong, taking days to actually kill someone. They preyed on groups and usually were selective about which individual they ended up feeding on. Apparently this one had chosen Noctis.

There wasn’t much more that Dave could tell them, and Noctis, upon awakening, wasn’t forthcoming, unwilling to talk about what had happened.

It seemed like that was the most they would know about the events, aside from their own quickly fading memories of awaking from a disturbingly long sleep.

By Noctis’ insistence they had relocated to a motel. His ribs were healing pretty well and Prompto was keeping him company while Ignis and Gladio were out.

“So, must have been pretty weird, all of us sleeping. It’s kinda ironic though,” said Prompto, eased back in a chair with his phone forgotten in his hands.

Noctis was on the bed, his own phone in hand and apparently losing whatever game he was playing.

“I guess,” he said diffidently.

“I mean, if it were me I probably would have done just about anything to get you guys to wake up, pots, pans, cold water, the works.”

Noctis let out a dismissive ‘hmmm’.

“I mean even a kiss, y’know, like that fairy tale.”

Noctis froze, eyes snapping up to Prompto before a small blush took over his cheeks. Prompto noticed. The Prince ducked his head behind his phone.

“Wait, did you actually?” The blonde asked in absolute shock.

“No,” replied Noctis, too fast and insistent for it to be true.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much. Noctis you sly dog! Which of us did you mack on?” Prompto was having too much fun at his friend’s expense.

Noctis put his phone down, both indignant and embarrassed.

“It was just a brush, okay, and it was gross and stupid and it didn’t work, so it doesn’t even matter, alright?”

A pair of eyebrows wagged and the prince’s glare became more pronounced, his cheeks flushing further.

“Was it Ignis? Getting it on with the your retainer, naughty naughty,” Prompto teased.

“No!” Noctis protested.

“Gladio then? I mean, he is basically a chick magnet, I mean, if I were him I’d be up to here in women.”

“It wasn’t Gladio, alright, so shut up,” he hissed in response.

Prompto’s eyes widened and he almost fell out of his chair.

“Oh, man, I’m flattered,” he gushed. “I mean, do you really think I look like a princess?”

“Shut up, Prompto!”

The door opened and in stepped Gladio and Ignis, the two hearing Noctis’ outburst.

“What’s going on?” asked Gladio.

Prompto jumped up, excited to share the news.

“Noctis tried to kiss one of us awake,” he announced.

“Really?” Ignis said, side glancing at Noctis with a raised brow.

Gladio let out a snort and shook his head.

“Yeah, and guess what, I was the first person he thought to try it on.”

“Is that so?” Ignis humored Prompto.

Gladio for his part was laughing.

“Yup, I’m basically Sleeping Beauty.”

“Oh shut up!” Noctis cried, throwing a pillow and getting Prompto square in the head.

“Wait until Lunafreya hears, she’ll be devastated,” Gladio threw in.

Noctis by this point was turning a bright red and looked like he was ready to attack.

“Come, come, let’s not aggravate him too much, we don’t want him making his injuries worse," tutted Ignis.

The two stopped and Noctis started to calm down.

“Though, it would be remiss not to mention the fact that if there are any unspoken feelings, any burgeoning sexual desires you wish to talk to me about, I would-”

“IGNIS!”

 


End file.
